


love what you adore

by dollylux



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Bad Luck, Blood and Injury, Episode: e051-057 The Suffering Game Parts 1-7, M/M, Piggyback Rides, Protective Magnus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-23 01:57:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21312298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dollylux/pseuds/dollylux
Summary: Taako's bad luck comes due.
Relationships: Magnus Burnsides/Taako
Comments: 6
Kudos: 104
Collections: The Taagnus Week Collection





	love what you adore

**Author's Note:**

> WHOOPS. Mixed up the days! So just pretend I'm posting this on Sunday and yesterday's fic was posted today. You can do it. I have faith in you.
> 
> Title from 'Hello Kitty Kat' by Smashing Pumpkins.
> 
> Taagnus Week Day 1 Prompt: The Suffering Game

Taako is all colors, at all times. Some shine through more than others on certain days. Purple when he’s feeling cocky, sure of his powers or proud of himself. Periwinkle when he’s quiet and introspective, when he needs to hole up alone for awhile and sift through his thoughts. And red, red when he’s fox-eyed and warm to the touch, when he seems like he’s always on the verge of sprawling out and offering himself up and the only word he would have for Magnus is _yes_. If Magnus was brave enough, anyway.

He’s red today. Rivulets of it. But it’s not seeping out of him in an almost visible aura. It’s dripping from his mouth; staining his chin and his teeth and his beautiful velvet and silk brocade corset.

Magnus hates it when Taako Blinks. Hates seeing him disappear like that. It reminds him of something that’s always on the edges of his memories, a shadowed thought. But when something giant and metal falls from the ceiling and lands on Taako with all its velocity and horrific weight, Magnus is only able to breathe when he sees Taako vanish, leaving the machine to crash to the ground completely.

Magnus fights. It’s all he is and it’s all he knows to do. Get through it and deal with the aftermath. It’s what life has taught him. The most vicious lesson.

He’s kicking at a hulking carcass when he realizes Taako is back. Blood rushes deafeningly loud in his ears as he crosses the room and comes to a dead stop in front of the slight elf leaning against a wooden box. A bright splash of scarlet puddles around Taako’s magneta winklepickers while drops of it fall from his still open mouth.

The tears in his eyes make them crystalline. His gaze finds Magnus, and Magnus turns to stone.

“Taako,” he whispers.

“Just… give me…” Taako trails off, trying to catch his breath that comes out ragged and sharp-ending. Tears cut through the blood on his chin like tracks in the snow. He’s hunkered in on himself, curled like a wounded animal. Magnus is paralyzed with his own uselessness.

“Fix him,” he growls at Merle, not realizing how pleading it sounds. “Fix him, old man. Right now.”

“Yeah, yeah, alright. Alright, I’m--” Merle hurries over, and Taako flinches when Merle’s hand comes to rest on his arm.

“Careful!” Magnus bellows, his voice echoing in the now silent room. He can feel the Vogue Elves’ eyes on them, watching.

He can tell when Merle heals Taako, can see the moment some relief softens his face. But it’s so small, so very little compared to how dire Taako’s injuries look that he can’t help his own anger. 

_Because in Wonderland, there is no healing._

Merle wanders off, and Magnus steps in close to Taako as soon as he’s able.

“Can you walk?” he asks quietly.

Taako lifts a narrow shoulder in a faint shrug. He looks frail, like he’s been shattered in some irrevocable way. He doesn’t meet Magnus’s eyes.

Magnus unties a handkerchief that he keeps around one of his forearms, one that is already stained with blood from past injuries that couldn’t be washed out. He touches it to Taako’s mouth, wiping away the vivid coating of blood there and from the rest of his face. Taako stays still and lets him, doesn’t so much as twitch while Magnus tends to him. 

The blood on his corset has already soaked in, turning an ugly purpling brown on the elegant teal. Magnus wipes at it and only manages to smear it. Taako sniffles, soft and wet. He wipes his eyes with a harsh rub of his sleeve.

“It’s fine. It’s not gonna matter.”

Magnus frowns then, taking a step back to look Taako over more carefully. 

“What do you mean, it’s not going to matter? Of course it’s gonna matter. We just have to--”

“I’m not… doing great, Mags.”’

It’s so matter of fact, so simple that it stops Magnus cold.

More blood has built up inside of Taako’s mouth. He leans over to spit it on the ground as delicately as he can.

Magnus forces himself to relive the moment, the horror of seeing Taako crushed beneath machinery that seemed to aim right for him. Ribcage, stomach, pelvis. All those vital organs, his most fragile parts. Magnus reaches out and touches Taako’s stomach with a wide, spanning hand. Taako flinches but relaxes within seconds. His eyes flick up and meet Magnus’s for the first time in awhile.

He looks defeated. He looks terrified.

There’s internal bleeding. Magnus isn’t a doctor or a healer, but he’s lived through war. He’s been there for countless deaths. He knows the slow, agonizing process that starts inside where Magnus can’t get to it.

“I’ll fix this,” he says, low enough that even a lich can’t hear it. Taako’s stomach trembles beneath his hand, and he can’t seem to control the tears that overflow from his eyes and spill down his pale face. He doesn’t argue with Magnus, doesn’t dismiss it. Taako’s hat is off, crumpled on the floor nearby, his hair is a wild mess, the long braid of it filthy with blood and slime and oil from the machine that crushed him.

His fingers are so tiny when they touch the top of Magnus’s hand, the tips of them still freezing from casting Ice Storm. 

His mouth is wet, crimson and sticky with blood, but Magnus leans down to meet it with his own as tenderly as he can. Taako parts his lips and lets Magnus in, and Magnus is flooded with the salty metallic taste of Taako’s blood, and it’s so familiar in flavor and in the way it absolutely tears Magnus apart that he gasps.

He swallows down every drop he licks out of Taako’s mouth and off his own lips before he trails kisses along Taako’s face, nuzzling at him even as his hand clutches at Taako’s small body, so ill-equipped to help, to heal him.

Whatever Taako needs, that’s what Magnus wants to be.

“Something to remember me by,” Taako murmurs, and he tugs on Magnus’s arm until Magnus leans down closer. Taako presses kiss after kiss across Magnus’s cheeks, his chin, the collar of his shirt. They’re all red-stained and visible, and Magnus swears he can feel each of them.

“You’re not going anywhere.” Magnus crouches down even further, his knees popping as he kneels in front of his little elf. “Climb up on my back. Let’s get out of here.”

Taako hesitates, and Magnus waits him out, a hand out to touch Taako’s lean calf, his pretty ankle. It’s barely contained worship, completely incongruous with where they are and who they are. But Taako steps forward and limps to stand behind Magnus, and the relief Magnus feels when Taako’s trembling arms wrap around his neck is immeasurable.

He stands up with the slight weight of one of the most incredible people Magnus has ever met on his back, and he holds on tight and walks with decided determination towards the exit.

He’ll be damned if he doesn’t get them out of here.


End file.
